


Lost Song

by flightless_soren



Category: Show By Rock!! - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Depression, Heavy Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-10-28 17:10:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10835664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightless_soren/pseuds/flightless_soren
Summary: Somethings need to be broken in order to become stronger.





	1. Cadenza

**Author's Note:**

> a reviewer mentioned its been a over year since I wrote Going down Swinging and I was thinking. Man. You're right anon. Time to write some more angst!
> 
> If you have not read GdS, I highly recommend you do, as Shuu's reasons for leaving Rom have been pretty established there- granted I do briefly touch on them here again to avoid confusion.
> 
> it is a two parter.... meant to be a third? But I'll see how it goes.

The key is a solid weight, pressing down into the palm of his hand, a very real, cruel manifestation, much like the weight crushing down against his shoulders. Heavy rain droplets soak him to the bone, black hair plastered to his cheeks and nose, and Shuu holds on so tightly to the key he feels as if its mere seconds away from bursting out through the back of his hand.

It takes an effort, but he forces himself to re pocket it, lifting a shaking hand to quickly knock on the apartment door instead.

He buries the key away.

This will never be his to use again.

Rushing foot steps- the owner sounding concerned to who is calling so late- and at every thump, Shuu’s heart hammers that much louder in his throat, terrified he’s seconds away from throwing up.

“How can I hel- _oh_.”

The door opens, that familiar, welcoming glow, now turned icy when the owner’s voice immediately drops upon seeing his face. “Why are you back here?” Rom’s eyes are red. He doesn’t wear make up, a mask, he’s never been one to hide everything away. Not like Shuu. And Shuu can see it all laid out bare in the wet stains on his shirt, the harsh black puncture marks under each eye, and the washed out look on his face.

Shuu can feel his heart tremble, close to breaking as Rom simply refuses to look at him, leopard ears pinned back in distress, tail flicking uneasily at his knees. He does something Shuu has never witnessed before. His arms come up, clutching at his elbows as if in a self reassuring hug, and he makes himself shrink away, as if he doesn’t want to deal with anything anymore.

“I wanted to pick up my stuff.”

It’s not him talking, not really. Shuu feels his mouth move, the words pass his lips, but everything is so far away. These words mean nothing.

“Right.”

Reluctantly, Rom steps away, letting Shuu inside. He sees the changes at once. There are half scrubbed at dishes, open cartons of take outs and left overs, bits of scattered clothing haphazardly thrown across the lounge and dining room. Rooms that were once clean and tidy now reflect the owner’s true mood.

Shuu doesn’t think he can step any further from inside the entrance way door.

He doesn’t belong here anymore.

And he can’t. He _can’t_ go into their room. No. _Rom’s_ room. It’s not _theirs_ anymore.

“What are you waiting for?”

Rom’s voice is hoarse, like he hasn’t slept for days. He can’t even bear to look at him right now.

“I don’t think I ca-”

“For _fucks sake_.”

The hint of aggression, aggression aimed at _him_ , frightens Shuu into silence. Rom has always been a little rough around the edges, but never towards him. Never. Shuu has never felt threatened in Rom’s presence, despite the rare times he angrily lashes out if something goes wrong, he can't fix a problem at work or can't hit that one particular note correctly- sometimes just needing to blow off steam down at the gym. But this man. He doesn’t _know_ this man. He doesn’t know what he could do or say next- he can’t read him any longer. _His_ Rom was so gentle and kind, and this was. Shuu _created_ this. This _hurt_ . His hand curls around Shuu’s wrist, and he drags Shuu onwards, through the violent turmoil of the apartments mess, ending with a shove so unexpected Shuu stumbles into the bedroom. “ _Hurry up.”_

Shaken, Shuu gingerly rubs at the sharp stinging ring around his wrist, his large ears flicking uneasily downwards as he reaches for the first set of drawers.

Fuck.

He didn’t realise how hard this would be.

Rom’s eyes scorch into his back, the air crackling with so much tension Shuu starts to visibly shake.

Why has he come back.

He hasn’t given it much thought, all he does know is that he’s done something unfixable and being here is making it shatter further still.

All he remembers is the doctors note. The lists of drugs, a mile long. And his entire brain fogging up as the reality of his own mortality hit him like a truck. The only clear thought left in his brain was to remove Rom from the picture. To save him from having to watch Shuu slowly grow weaker and die.

Leaving him now felt easier than leaving him on his deathbed.  

He’s never been one to fold his clothes. They still lie there, all scrunched up and crammed into the drawer, just as he’d left them, barely even a week ago. The day of their final live together. His fingers, white and trembling from the coldness of the rain, press against the fabric of his favourite black shirt, he doesn’t even need to unfold it to remember the pathetically edgy design splashed across its front. How often he’d sit there wearing it, pencil behind one ear, guitar held in his hands and notes scattered all about him, brows angrily crossed as he desperately searched for inspiration.

_Shuu, put on some pants for god’s sake._

_But it's lucky._

_What. Having no pants?_

_Nah, this tshirt._

The warm memory of Rom pressing himself against his back and softly telling him to do it later, removing the pencil from his ear to replace it with a kiss immediately dissolves when the windows shake with a sudden spray of rain, the bite of the very real Rom behind him now asking;

“Shuu, why are you even here?”

Shuu laughs without meaning too. “I figured removing myself entirely would make things. Easier,” his voices trails off, he fights to keep it steady, to remain detached. His hands ball into fists, eyes squeezing shut, and he tries _so hard_.

“I don’t _want_ you gone.”

He gasps a little, a tiny, choked sound, and his vision blurs as he loses what little self control he still has. “Rom.”

It's only a word, but it has the man behind him react so fast Shuu momentarily looses all breath as arms come around to crush everything out of him. “Please don’t go. Don’t do this to me,” a delirious mutter against the back of Shuu’s neck, and Rom holds onto him like his life depends on it. Shuu is so used to viewing these arms as the supports that lift him up, that shelter and protect them both, feeling them quiver around him fills him with a sense of dread. “Shuu I need you.”

Something breaks inside of him and Shuu turns around, grabbing Rom’s neck to pull him down into a guilty kiss. He can’t do this. He shouldn’t do this. It’s cruel. He just keeps on hurting him. Shuu whimpers pathetically against Rom’s lips, the sound making Rom more desperate, more demanding as he keeps kissing him, unable to let go of him out of fear he’ll vanish once more. It's only been a week. Barely seven days, and Shuu has missed this so fucking much. His judgement clouds as he battles with why he would ever give this up. Rom means so much to him. More than he could ever put into words. He doesn’t _want_ to hurt him.

A sharp pain of his hip hitting the set of drawers jolts him away from Rom’s soft kisses, hands coming up to press against his chest, before shoving him harshly away.

“I can’t.”

Those words are like a shutter, something closes behind Rom’s eyes, that gentle warmth that’s always been directed his way, immediately dies. “Shuu-”

“Don’t!”

He can’t deal with this anymore.

Closing his eyes, he shoves passed Rom, blinding hurrying down the corridor and reaching for the door- fingers grabbing at his jacket stop him.

“Give me your keys.”

Those words hurt more than anything in the world.

Rom finally rejecting him, shutting him out forever.

He doesn’t _belong_ here. And he’ll never be welcomed back.

Like a knife, it digs into his stomach, twisting and twisting until Shuu bites his bottom lip, trying to stop himself from crying out. “I threw them away.”

He lies.

He can’t.

He can’t give up that last part of himself.

He can’t accept this is happening.

He can’t accept that _he did this_.

Rom laughs bitterly. “Of course you did.”

The warmth on his back fades as Rom removes his hand. “Why are you here, Shuu?” he repeats himself.

“To give back what I took from you so long ago.”

He opens the door, the rain pouring down so violently as he stands beneath it, he can’t tell if its that which blurs his vision or something more.


	2. The Real Reason

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yup.

A part of him died that day.

With the rain thundering loudly into the gutter by his feet, static noise that blurred out the words being spoken to him. Those words had been important. Probably. The last thing ever spoken between them while everything was still together and okay.

And Rom had blocked them out.

Shuu hadn’t even bothered to glance back one last time. 

Honestly, Rom can’t remember how long he’d watched after that small, retreating figure. Long, _long_ after the rain had swallowed him up. But he _can_ remember exactly how cold everything had felt. Not just from being soaked to the bone, but a cold, icy grip, had taken a stranglehold over his heart, flooding his veins with a chilling feeling of _dread_.

But how quickly that had passed.

The coldness stilling over to just. Numb. A white fog of nothing filling his mind. Nothing mattered anymore. He could have stood in the middle of that road forever, something could come around the corner and knock him over, and he would have welcomed it.

He had given up so easily.

It had barely been a ten minute conversation. It felt so. Insignificant. Such a small passage of time really, yet it held something so precious to him.

To Rom, those ten minutes was something Shuu had taken something blunt to, and hit it until it shattered.

To this day, he hated being reminded of that night. He made such a conscious effort to ignore those buried feelings and memories. It's not healthy. Rom _knew_ this. He’d known it the night he all but tore up their apartment, because if he couldn’t feel numb he had to feel _something_. Anger was the only thing left behind. It wasn’t even anger directed at Shuu, he wasn’t capable of truly hating the man- instead self loathing at last settled in and fixed a place firmly into his heart.

His landlord had thrown him swiftly out after seeing the destroyed furniture and holes in the wall. And even now, years later, he still knows bottling it all up will one day lead to self destruction. Whenever he gets drunk enough to regrettably scroll through his old text messages, they’re so old now, digging the knife in deeper as his eyes blearily skim over hollow _I love yous_ and _do your best today_.

He’s too much of a coward to ever erase his phone’s history.

Even now, when he knows it's been over for _years_ , he still desperately clutches onto something. Anything. _Something_ that reminds him that it was real and worth it.

Rom has been doing better. Somewhat. With nobody to really talk to, his issues come out through his fists. And he can tell with the way Yaiba watches him, that he _knows_. Not who, or what the problem is. But he’s perceptive enough to tell when something is wrong.

Most of the time, Rom finds he can kill his own emotions through sheer exhaustion.

Work.

The only thing he could turn to after everything ended that night.

Rom wasn’t naturally gifted, he worked hard for what he wanted. He worked hard at school. He got good grades. And all that was washed away into the drain that night. Rom had thrown aside his scholarships in favour of part time working instead, putting his heart and soul into making Amatelast survive. But after becoming near catatonic after the break up, he’d lost his job after never turning up for a week.

Just what was the point?

He’d got a cold slap of reality when he realised he couldn’t just move back home, nor was living in a box on a street corner particularly desirable.  

So his fried mind slowly shifted gears, forcing himself to focus on something else.

Having a job was still a dream… right?

Honestly, it worked. It’s worked for over five years now. Anyone looking in would see a hard working, motivated myumon. Not seeing the trembling mess of insecurities and crippled wreck he was beneath it all.

He would push himself to the point of breaking, staying on shifts that go into over time, taking extra work home or to the band studios. And when he’s not number crunching, he would instead play with his band mates. There’s no real need to practise every day. But Rom made them, playing it off that it would help them achieve their dreams faster with disciplining themselves. When in reality, he’s more than aware he’s just using it for his own ends.

Rom loves his bandmate. He really does. There was a point in his life he became terrified he was using them as some kind of emotional crutch. To shift his dreams from that lost point, and fix it on another. Using it to fill a void that still eats at him today. And to a point, yes, maybe that’s still true. But now it’s so much more. He sees it in the way Crow’s face lights up each time he nails a particularly hard guitar riff. Or whenever Aion pushes aside his nerves to gently tug on Rom’s tail, asking for advice. And each time he goes out drinking with Yaiba and they go back to his place to very uncoordinatedly play mario kart. These are the moments he cherishes. And nothing could ever replace them.

He loves them. But. When they’d shown him the Amatelast album over the dying fire embers, Rom’s heart had slowly sunk all the way down to his tail tip.

It's not very often Rom thinks about Shuu.

Well.

He _sees_ Shuu almost daily. It's impossible not to, the radiant star of Midicity and all that. Billboards. Radio channels. Newspaper articles. Hearing him constantly brought up in conversation. But there’s a difference from being aware of his presence to _thinking_ about him. Remembering all that’s happened. And while Rom perches on his secluded spot by the river’s edge, very unwanted memories start flooding back to him.

Of the very first time he ever saw Shuu- _really_ saw him- not during class introductions, but when he’d caught a glimpse of him so passionately singing alone in the music room after school, eyes closed and forehead beaded in concentration. He remembers how hopelessly edgy Shuu had tried to act. Dyeing his mousey brown hair black, poorly attempting to dye streaks in it and calling Rom at almost one in the morning, crying, that he left the bleach in too long and had fried parts of his hair.

His weird, stubborn refusal to never wear jumpers or scarves, anything he deemed _cute_ , because Shuu was _not_ cute, he was _cool_ . At every denial, Rom would always scoop him up and kiss his face, murmuring this is what _made_ him cute, over and over again, ignoring his shrieking protests and laughs. Rom can recall every little habit Shuu grew into. The way he would clutch at Rom’s sleeve if he wanted attention. Or whenever he got nervous and his tail would tremble slightly. And _especially_ the way his ears with flick up and down when he got far too excited.

There’s a squeezing warmth in Rom’s chest as he recalls these things. They’re such innocent, fond memories, and that’s why it hurts so much. Because he really did love him. He loved everything, not just the good, but all his mistakes and flaws too. He wasn’t perfect by any means. God no. But really, that part of him, the part that was a bit rough around the edges, the part that said rude and uncaring things, the parts that were broken, those were the parts Rom wanted to look after and protect. Only he had gotten to see that brattish, jealous and demanding side of Shuu. And Rom wanted to monopolise that. Because that was _his_.

Remembering all of this so suddenly is almost more than Rom can really take right now. His tail curls around his ankles, as if to reassure himself, eyes screwing up tight to keep himself together.

He wasn’t that he _loved_ Shuu. He _still_ loves him, even now.

After all this time. After everything Shuu has put him through. Never looking back. Never extending anything. The slow burn of torturing himself over everything, for _years_. Beating himself up for believing he did something wrong. That he should have been the one to fix everything.

It wasn't as if either of them had done something _wrong_ , not even Rom was stupid enough to believe Shuu's only reason to leave was because of clashing ideas. There was another reason.

At the time, Rom supposes he hadn’t seen the signs. He knows now, in retrospect, Amatelast had been struggling. _Shuu,_ had been struggling. Rom had sacrificed a lot to keep the band afloat with what money he earned- but the band was one of Shuu’s life lines. It meant so much to him. He had poured so much of himself into making things work. With how pale and malnourished his skin had turned near the end, a continuous shake to his writing hand from drinking can after can of energy drinks, Rom had foolishly ignored Shuu’s decline in health. A silent plea for help.

Shuu was the dreamer. Rom would not, quite possibly never have, dreams quite like Shuu’s. His only desire was to support him. _That_ was the source of his happiness.

Shuu had hidden a lot from him, pretending he was getting enough sleep. That he was eating correctly. That the threat of the entire band’s failing future hadn’t stressed him beyond his limits. For whatever reason, the young man had silently shouldered all that himself.

He had been young. They _both_ had been young. And stupid.

The heat in his chest makes his head spin and Rom tries to take in a gulp of air without choking, fingers fumbling around in his pants pockets. He’s not really thinking straight anymore. With more coordination that he thought possible right now, Rom paws through his contact list, coming to a stop at Shuu’s old number.

He could have got a new phone. Changed his number. Thrown it out entirely.

What’s the point, really?

Oddly, thoughts like, _this is a mistake_ or, _you’ll regret this_ , don’t come to mind. Just. Maybe this is something he should have done a long time ago.

The ringing feels like it goes on forever. And when it clicks over to answer phone, Rom can feel the cracks in his heart splinter that much further. As he gets prompted to leave a message, Rom opens his mouth before he can stop himself.

Everything comes out.

_Everything_.

Of how sorry he is. Because even though he’s come to terms that it isn’t really his fault, old habits die hard. It’s so easy to turn over and show his stomach to Shuu. And that he’s felt like this. For years. Wanting to know why. And even though he should hate Shuu, like really, _really_ hate him, he just can’t. He can’t ever think of hurting him. Because he only has to think of that dorky smile, that smile only reserved for him, and his heart just breaks at how much that had meant to him.

There’s a tremble to Rom’s voice, and he knows he’s not going to make it. 

He manages to reveal how much he misses Shuu before he breaks down entirely. He has to clamp one hand over his mouth to muffle his sobs, scared of how loud they’re becoming, a flood of hot tears dripping down his face.

He loves him _so much_.

He just wants him here. It physically hurts to say it out loud. He wants Shuu beside him, he wants to try again, to try and have a life with him once more. He’s sick of waking up cold and alone, every damn morning. He wants to open his eyes to a warm _good morning_ , to sleepy kisses and a reluctance to get out of bed-

“I want that too.”

A voice answers his cries, shocking Rom into silence. He hears faint crying coming from the other end, before the harsh dial tone fills his ears.


End file.
